Running Away
by Innocently naive
Summary: Title says it all, Ziva runs away from her fears but will he make her confront them?
1. Running

**Ok, well, thanks for reading, this started off as something for my english and I figured I'd post it and see what people thought.  
Opinions would be appreciated, so I can see where I'm at :)**

**Enjoy**

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There was a loud knock on his wooden door, he froze. Silencing the television that he had been watching to combat his inability to sleep and getting up from the couch he hesitantly made his way to the door at the entrance to his apartment, _its 3 o'clock in the morning, _he thought to himself as he edged closer.

"Ziva!" He exclaimed, confused by her late night arrival.

"I'm sorry Tony, but I didn't know where else to go," she said as she stood in his doorway, barely dressed in her pyjamas, a thin white singlet top that hung off her frail frame and a pair of baggy boxer shorts, she was covered in sweat, her hair was dishevelled and tear tracks ran down her red and sweaty face.

Tony let her in, overcome with emotions, confusion, joy, sadness, pity, because Ziva was standing in his doorway, in the middle of the night in her pyjamas and although she was obviously distressed Tony couldn't help thinking about her that way. He'd dreamt of the moment for years, the moment in which they finally give into their longing for each other, the moment where their unmistakable sexual tension was addressed, the moment when they would finally become one with each other.

"Are you alright Ziva?" Tony asked as he ushered her in from the icy hallway, placing a strong hand protectively around her shoulders as he directed her over to his couch. He sat her down, laying an old blanket around her hunched shoulders. Then he sat down next to her, his arm still wrapped tightly around her, protectively.

"I'm fine," Ziva lied unconvincingly, avoiding contact with his enchanting green eyes.

"Ok then, if you're fine, then why did you show up on my doorstep at 3 o'clock in the morning?" His question came out harsher than he intended, but he wanted answers.

"I missed you," she said, although it was almost a question.

She was pleading with him to accept one of her answers so she wouldn't have to tell him the truth; that she was having nightmares; that she couldn't sleep, she couldn't get the images out of her mind, her mother, Tali, Ari, Eli, Michael, Saleen, their faces flashing across her mind each and every time she closed her eyes. She didn't want to admit that she was scared, and that she ran. In a desperate attempt to escape from her mind Ziva had run from her place, her bare feet pounding against the cold, wet pavement until she was covered in sweat and breathing heavily, she had stopped and doubled over, pressing her hands tight against her knees as she had tried to regain her breath. She'd looked up and realised where she was, Tony's apartment. Taking it as a sign she walked inside his building and up to his apartment until she was knocking on his door. But she didn't want to tell Tony that, she didn't want to admit her fears.


	2. Questions

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Ok, I'm going to try and master this posting thing. This should have been in the last chapter, but I didn't know how. This is my first (published) fic, it started as something I submitted for english and figured that I'd post it and see what people thought. Opinions would be greatly appreciated, thanks to those that did last time.

**Enjoy.**

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"Tea?" Tony offered Ziva as he sat with her on his couch in the deafening silence, his voice cutting through the room like the shattering of glass.

"Please," she nodded, wrapping the blanket tightly around her as Tony moved to the kitchen to make them tea.

She sat alone, a stranger in Tony's house, a stranger to herself and thought. Tony returned and removed Ziva from her the thoughts in which she was lost. He passed her a cup of tea and she clasped the mug tightly in her slender clammy hands, the warmth from the cup filling her frail body. He sat, embracing the silence and thought, with his mind now made up he spoke to her.

"You loved him didn't you?" he asked her, realising that he had to know the truth and that he had to know, even if she hated him because of it.

"Don't start Tony," Ziva said, pain straining her voice.

She sipped her tea silently, thinking, contemplating.

"No, Ziva, I need to know," he turned her face, and staring deep into her eyes Tony asked again, "Did you love him?"

"I don't know," she yelled back at him, she could feel the emotions boiling up inside of her, "I don't know Tony, I don't know how I feel or how I felt, I don't want to think about it."

Tony rethought his actions, staring deep into Ziva's pleading childlike eyes he searched his brain for answers. He needed to get an answer from her but he knew it would hurt her, _but she's almost there, _he argued with himself, and he wanted that answer more than anything, he wanted her to admit that she didn't love Michael, he wanted her to admit that Michael was playing her, he wanted her to finally let go, but he didn't want to hurt her. He stared at her again, at Ziva, his Ziva, as she stared vacantly into her empty cup of tea, lost in her own thoughts, their faces whirling around in her head as she fought back the pain.

"Ziva, think," Tony said, almost ordered, placing his hands on her shoulders, shaking her, demanding answers, "You know how you felt, I need to know this, did you love him?"  
"I don't know," she screamed angrily at him, "I don't know, everyone's said so much about him and my father and then there was Somalia and Saleen, and I don't, I just don't know anymore."

The anger on her face vanished and was replaced with a much softer emotion, but one that brought tears to his eyes, tears the mirrored the ones in Ziva's eyes.

"I'm sorry," he offered, wrapping his arms back around Ziva, holding her tight against him, "I shouldn't have pushed you for answers like that."

Ziva wanted to reassure him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, to tell him that there was much more than Michael on her mind at the moment, but she couldn't. She couldn't even speak, the words held back by her fear, so instead she stayed wrapped tightly in Tony's arms, wondering if she could trust him, she'd trusted so many in her life and didn't know if she could trust another. Tony tussled her hair as she closed her eyes and nestled closer.

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**Oooh look, I mastered the lines!  
Review? **


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